


Freedom Lives

by BlossomingRosebud



Category: RWBY, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Academy, Alternate Universe, Character Death, Character Development, Choices, Coming of Age, Deception, Eren Yeager Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fate & Destiny, Freedom, Gen, History is important, It's not as bad as it could be, Just kidding - it's bad, Leadership, Leaving, Levi Ackerman is one thousand percent done with Life, Literary References & Allusions, Mythology - Freeform, Pain, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Trauma, power
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-04-20 04:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14253150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlossomingRosebud/pseuds/BlossomingRosebud
Summary: All Eren Jaegar wanted was to get revenge on the Grimm that killed his mom.  All Mikasa and Armin wanted was to make sure he didn't die in the process.  Neither quite got what they wanted.  What they got was a war.  They, along with the rest of their newfound companions from the students of Beacon Academy, are about to uncover a world quite unlike what they knew or wanted to know.  Only one thing is clear--Grimm are far from being their greatest enemy.  A quest is given: one that is far from just difficult--it is impossible.  But like the suicidal maniacs that have gone before them, they will do it anyways.A fusion-crossover AU with Attack on Titan characters in the world of RWBY.Book 1: Destruction (Chapters 1-?)Book 2: KnowledgeBook 3: CreationBook 4: Choice





	1. Dawn: From Shadows We Rise

**Author's Note:**

> This took a long time to figure out. Like, a *really* long time. But what started as something my mind was playing with after first starting and finishing AOT last Christmas became a full-on story universe I spent way too much time figuring out, so here it is. It is the characters from Attack on Titan existing in the world of Remnant from the show RWBY, but with a story of their own with a tone that is probably more edgy than RWBY but less so than Attack on Titan. I don't know--bad things still happen. Grimm are just a little more manageable than Titans, you know? 
> 
> If you're here for AOT and have no idea what a 'RWBY', don't worry, I'll try to explain the world properly from the beginning (if my exposition is useless, feel free to comment your question instead!). If you're here and you do know RWBY, here's the run-down: I've taken the basic structure of Remnant as the same: four kingdoms, four relics, teams of four with color-related names (except for one on which I cheated...), and the nature of their weapons and semblances. And then, of course, the Grimm. Mainly, it will be the backstory that has changed, along with the underlying mythology of their world, which you'll find out about soon enough. Also, the backstory is important.
> 
> So, as far as the actual plot goes, it'll start out somewhat similarly, with the students we're following coming in as the freshman class of Beacon, learning how to be a team, and dealing with that basic craziness which is their lives. Then, a big thing will happen, which you'll know about if you know RWBY but if you happen to not I won't spoil it, and from there, the story will largely diverge. 
> 
> So, to give the basics to those who don't know, Remnant is a world divided up into four kingdoms: Vale, Mistral, Vacuo, and Atlas. They are human, though each have some natural superpower, a reflection of personality called their "semblance". And they are inflicted by giant monsters called Grimm, who eat humans and are attracted to fear. The rest, you shall soon see.

**BOOK 1: Destruction**

 

\---DAWN---

 

_“I don’t know what it is,” answered Fiver wretchedly.  “There isn’t any danger here, at this moment.  But it’s coming.  Oh, Hazel, look!  The field!  It’s covered with blood!”_

\--Richard Adams, _Watership Down_

 

* * *

 

 

_Fire and ash flooded the streets, the skies, the eyes of the fighting.  A gigantic form loomed and thundered with the drums of war, clashing with its foe, a blinding shock of light and wind.  She screamed and blasted; he said nothing.  Those who were neither giant nor light fought over the pieces, as darkness marched onward.  Theirs was to push the darkness back, but in the end, the fire still raged._

_The people still perished._

 

* * *

 

 

The mountains were always strangely peaceful this time of year.  Perhaps it was the dark, still trees, or the warm yet faint mist hovering across the ground, heralding the coming arrival of autumn.  Grisha Jaeger stared out at that mist today, wondering, perhaps, what it might long to hide.  Maybe, if the fog were thicker, one could more easily imagine a dark shape emerging from its midst, silent as the trees, until it lets out that fearsome roar—it’s battle cry once it learns to hunger after your fear.  But until then, it is only a shadow, with a misty shape and cold red eyes. 

“…so Maria, you see, she says ‘let’s go on a walk!’  And me, I thought she was trying to cheer me up.  But all the way, I noticed – she had that gleam in her eye, you know?  And she kept looking around like she was watching for someone. So she gets me to climb this tree with her, and stays there until suddenly, Frederick passes by! And when he does, you know what she does?  She pushes me off!  Smack!  I landed right in front of him – Frederick, that is.  He was so shocked and concerned that I was hurt, and he kept talking to me trying to help, but I was so mad at Maria, I didn’t say a thing…”

Miss Sina’s cheery banter rang clear and bright throughout the tiny, airy room.  Light from a lone hanging lantern and a few candles besides illuminated the wrinkles on her fair-skinned face, and she kept on going on about old times like there was all the time in the world and not at all like she was just recovering from a severe bout of tuberculous.  But, Jaegar supposed, that was just her way.  She kept going on.  She was a widow, and her sisters were long since dead, and her nieces and nephews had long since forgotten her, but she still sang away into the misty morning as if words and memories alone could beckon the sun.  She was the last house call on his route, and as always, the longest; but really, Grisha didn’t mind.

“…we were together fifty-two years, doctor.  Fifty- _two_.  Frederick was always most fond of even numbers, so I think he did it on purpose.  But to think, it was all because of Maria!  The crafty little thing!  Now, I got a sprained ankle out of the deal, but she sure did get his attention, that was for sure.  But that’s nothing.  You should hear what she once pulled on little Rose…”

Grisha had been staying in the mountains of Mistral for about six months now, but then again, he wasn’t quite sure.  Time ran together so much nowadays.  One day he was in one place, and the next in another.  He had always been a travelling doctor, going wherever Remnant needed him.  Only, nowadays, there was less direction to his travels.  He simply went wherever he chose to wander.  But Mistral had become something of a favorite, given its wide reach.  It was remote, and quiet.  It also meant that people here had less access to city hospitals, so there was more of a need.  He didn’t mind staying in Mistral for a while.  Perhaps, these visits with Sina, with the long conversations it always devolved into, were the only thing that made him think otherwise.  She made him think of Vale.

“…no way whatsoever would she ever eat a tomato again.  Ever.  Well, until next week, that is.  Ah!  Rose was always a funny one.  And her children were just as bad.  Always getting into trouble, they were.  Ooh, once, you see, I was at the house helping Rose in the garden, and her two boys, William and Mac – they went off to build a fort.  They cleared off every stick and stone in the yard, I’m telling you – all to make these big, high walls around the oak tree.  But William got this idea in his head – he decided to get inside and lock Mac out.  So me, I hear them hollering and arguing, and I run over to try to break it up, but then I see Mac out there, and you know what he did?  He hunkered down, stared down the wall, and ran for it, headfirst.  Bang!  The sticks and stones went flying, and they both got so hurt…but that’s little boys for you.  You know what I mean, Doctor?”

Dr. Jaegar nodded – simple, friendly, noncommittal.  She gave a smile in return and seemed to take the answer in stride.  “The children were always something else.  When they were all young, I would look at them, and I would remember my own childhood.  Me and Frederick never were able to have any, you see, but I knew Rose’s and Maria’s well.”  She closed her sentence with a wistful breath, and drifted her gaze out the window, where the mist above the hills was just beginning to burn away with the morning light.

Grisha wondered how she could do it—how the old widow could take it, embrace it, speak about it, as if they were still there.  As if right now, as she gazed smiling out the window, she could see them still, the children running and playing, their faces glowing, the weary-eyed parents watching over them from a distance.  And they laughed, so loud and vibrant that the sound echoed through all the hills.  And then they would keep laughing…like smiling specters fading with the night.  And they looked at him, and they invited him to come with them, and play too, but he couldn’t.  All he could was stare past them, behind them, at the dark shadows taking shape.  And he tried to warn them, tried to tell them to leave, don’t go there, _run away_ , but he couldn’t.  He couldn’t, because it was too late; they were not real; this was the past and not the present.  But their faces wouldn’t go away.  And he didn’t try to make them go away, as much as he wanted to.  The memory was his responsibility.  It was his burden.  To stand there, looking after them, and keep trying to warn them like he never did or could, but time would go on, and they were already convinced – they were going into the woods, and he couldn’t stop them…

“Doctor?”

Grisha was broken out of his reverie, and Dr. Jaegar whirled back to face his patient, who was staring at him staring out the window.  And her eyes looked strained, worried, like she knew – he knew she knew—but below that she still wore a shaky smile she offered up this shiny teacup that Jaegar didn’t even notice she was holding before.  “Tea, Doctor?”

“Yes.” He regained his composure and nodded.  “Yes, that would be nice.”

She poured him a cup, and the two sat briefly in silence, which was odd for her.  But she smiled and sighed, and soon started talking again. 

“Do you have any family, Doctor?”

He stared at her for a moment, his tight, aching throat still vacant for words due to some mixture of a lack of ideas and just pure surprise that she actually addressed him with a direct question, when their general way in these visits was that she talked and he listened.  But his gaze he held steady; he didn’t try to advert it.  He just let it stay there, along with that stream of thoughts just below the surface, who’d rather stay concealed but were just invited to come forth, that echoed in the fading reaches of his mind…

_“Where were you?  Where were you all this time?”_

_“You did this!  You let this happen!”_

“Yes,” he answered simply, blandly.  It was the truth, unfortunately.  But the rest of the story; that was harder to say.  He usually didn’t.  Usually, no one cared enough to press him.  He was a doctor; who needed to know anything else?  Besides simple talk, like the weather and the town and politics.  Who really wanted to know about his family?  Who needed to know his name?

“Well, it’s good you do,” Sina replied, a soft smile still in place, her gaze held somewhere past his face, somewhere in the distance.  To which effect, despite the direct question, he didn’t know if she noticed him there or not, as her mind released itself to the memory, and got swept away by the singing, laughing river.  “It’s always good, to have someone beside you.  Walking with you.  Holding your hand.  Do you know, doctor?” Her voice came out like a breath, somber and melancholic.  The change was so marked, it made him hold his.  “Do you know what I mean?  It doesn’t have to be your blood.  It’s just…those you choose to be with.” Her gaze drifted downwards, and for a second, Grisha had not an idea what to do about it.  She seemed almost upset – did he do something wrong?

But of course, no sooner had he worried, then Sina shot her face to the sky again, and she laughed.  She laughed heartily and then leaned back in her chair with eyes half closed and a smile that stayed.  “Ah, yes, yes, of course.  It is nice to remember times like that, too.  Times we were there for each other.  Like with Frederick, yes, he had a great time of it once.  A hard one, that is.  Like…when we lived up north, near the mines.  It was our home town, you see.  And, he has family worked there, you see, and he did too.  As an engineer.  It was good pay, actually, but my word…they treated him awful.” Her eyes turned to a harsh grimace at the thought.  “All their employees, they did.  It didn’t matter.  It was worse if you were a miner.  But then…what else did you do in a town like that?  They were so cruel, but he just figured he had to stay.  For the job.  And his family.  And you know what I told him?  I said, ‘Fred, you know you’re worth more than that.  You don’t have to put up with it.’  So, I let him know, I was more than okay with leaving.  I was determined to.  For him.  So…we moved.  He quit.  Left the Reiss Dust Company in the dust!” she ended with her best pun and laughed, and Grisha could not help but laugh too. 

Grisha let his gaze drift from Sina, to the floor, to the lantern, to the window.  They were here, weren’t they?  They were here for her, singing, living out the old days again and again and again, and she let them.  She let the memories stay there.  And so did he.  Only…he had far less confidence he was doing it right.  Because those innocent, dancing eyes of youth didn’t comfort him; they haunted him.  They could do nothing else.  There was too much he could’ve done; so much he could’ve changed.  But that, too, was part of his burden.  There was far more peace in letting life come than trying to change it.  After all, it is easier to accept something if you know you had no part in making it die.

He looked back at her, and he let himself smile.  Because she deserved as much.  Because she was able to leave.  They did what they had to, left that town, and had no regrets.  She lived her whole life without regrets.  And for that, Grisha envied her.

Regrets were all he had left.

 

* * *

 

 

“What the flying chiz is your problem, man!?”

“ _My_ problem!?  _I’m_ the one with the problem?  _You_ stole my sandwich!”

“It’s _not_ your sandwich!  I put it down here!  This is clearly mine!”

“No! _I_ set it down there!”

“You wanna bet, horseface!?”

“You want to _what!_?”

Two adolescent boys stared each other down with fire and fury and mere inches in between, and one other boy stood there, to the side, really wishing that his semblance involved making everything suddenly invisible.  He hung his face in his hands and peeped out tentatively from in between his fingers.  This was bad.  This was _really_ bad.  It wasn’t even the first day of school yet, and they had already caught the attention of every single student in this place.  Or, at least, all in the airship’s cafeteria.  Which was still bad.

The current possessor of the sandwich in question stared down his opponent with furrowed brows and shocks of unruly dark chestnut hair wafting against his face.  His fierce, unblinking eyes told the guy in front of him to take a hike down the gorge, despite the other guy’s being taller than him and looking like his own version of formidable with harsh, narrowed eyes set underneath his short, even crop of dark blonde hair.  But the sandwich holder wasn’t backing down.  How long he would keep this up, Armin couldn’t tell.  But if he knew Eren Jaegar—which he most certainly did—this could be a while.   

“Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but listen,” the other guy expressed with an air of exasperation on top of his annoyance.  “I set down my sandwich on the table, turned away for two seconds, and next thing I know, you have it.  You know we aren’t getting doubles on this.  We each have only _one_.”

“What!?  You trying to say I took _two_!?  What’s to say _you_ aren’t?” Eren gave an accusing finger jab towards his opponent’s direction, his eyes starting to glow with a hint of red.

Okay, now this was _really_ getting out of hand.  Armin had to do something quick.  “Hey, guys!” he raised his hands placatingly from the sidelines before motioning quickly to the cafeteria table in question.  “There’s another sandwich sitting right there!  Are you sure that isn’t one of yours?  Is that anyone else’s?” He asked with an air of desperation, looking around for answers from the surrounding crowd of…oh, moondust… _spectators_.  None of whom he knew, of course, besides Mikasa, still standing by his side and doing well to fade into the background.

“No, that isn’t it!” the guy objected strongly as Armin’s hopes and dreams fell.  “It has pickles in it – see?” He pointed to the sandwich in its aluminum tin foil wrapped glory, a black “P” sprawled across its surface.  “I know I didn’t get the one with pickles; I hate the things.”

“Yeah, I know, right?” Eren echoed understandingly.  “They taste like someone poured vinegar in a juice box.  It’s sour as mess.”

“And gets all over everything, too.”

“ _Right_?  You can’t even just take them off.  The juice is already all over everything, and now your bread’s soggy, too.”

“Yeah, you would at least be better sticking it in the middle rather than that.”

“Ha, or better yet, putting the stuff _to the side_.”

The guy nodded with gravity.  “Yeah, that’s for sure.  Which is why I definitely didn’t get that one.”

“Well, dude, neither did I!”

Armin knew no other action but to sigh heavily, resting his face in his hands as he helplessly continued to listen to the argument pick back up, now shifted from an accusation of stealing to one of ignorance, as it was debated vigorously who screwed up and accidentally got the sandwich with pickles.  Armin looked over desperately to Mikasa for help, but she stayed as passive as ever.  Probably she just assumed Eren would win the argument.  She might not be wrong.

“Of course I asked for no pickles!  What do you think I am, an idiot?”

“Well, maybe!”

“Hey, if you guys don’t want that one, can I have it?”

A new girl with a long auburn ponytail and a quiver strapped across her back stepped forth from the crowd and eyed the unclaimed sandwich, a greedy look of hunger across her face.  However, she was soon met with a hearty, resounding “No!” from both the guys who didn’t want it, before they continued arguing.

Beside her, another girl—this one with dark skin, sharp features, and a bold splash of freckles—laughed, edging over to poor Armin with her arms crossed and face bemused.  “Well!” she exclaimed decidedly.  “Beacon’s going to be even more fun than I thought.  We already have a fight, and it’s not even the first day yet.  So which one’s your friend?”

Armin let out a mix of a sigh and a groan and wished wholeheartedly for the ground to swallow them all.  “The one with the sandwich.”

“Ha!  Ain’t that fun?  Would be even more hilarious if they became teammates.  I’m not sure this school’s ever had their students kill each other before.  It’d be a first.”

She laughed again, but of course, Armin failed to find it nearly as hilarious.  He looked back to Mikasa with added desperation now and deliberately caught her eye.  She shrugged.

Aw no.  Not that.  He was getting to the bottom of this.  Armin pulled off from the scene and rushed back to the cafeteria counter.  He was finding out whose stack of bread and meat and pickles it was.  He found the lady at the counter and pleased.  “Ma’am, I’m sorry, do you guys have any record of who ordered what lunch?”

The lady just stared back at him, but no sooner had he said it than a remark came from the other direction.  “Well, what’s this here?”

She sounded like an adult.  Armin whirled around to face her, a glimmer of hope coming to light, but upon seeing her face, it was promptly squashed.  Oh no.  He knew who she was.  And that meant this was really, really bad.  Well, looks like they were getting kicked out.  This was it.  Applications to Haven, anyone? 

“Assistant Headmaster Hanji!” he exclaimed automatically, already preparing a desperate plea for the fate of his impulsive, hot-headed friend. But by some strange chance, it wouldn’t come, because Hanji just looked back at him and laughed.  She didn’t even look mad, which was…surprising, to say the least.

“Yep, that’s me,” she affirmed with the hint of a gleam in her eyes under her glasses, dark auburn hair framed loosely about her face.  “So, food fight, or what?”

What…seriously?  She didn’t even look worried.  Armin quickly made an effort to grasp his composure.  “Ummm…no, no ma’am.  It’s nothing.  It’s just a….a disagreement over whose sandwich is whose.”  Gosh, it sounded even worse out loud.  “I just wanted to check it out to find out for sure.”

“Well, sounds like a smart solution!” she agreed with vigor before moving forward to the lunch counter.  “Excuse me, Talia, let me see that…” she moved over to the computer, with Armin staring back at her slack-jawed all the while.  This couldn’t be this easy, could it? 

“So, whose orders are we talking about, here?” Hanji looked up and asked.

“Well…Eren Jaegar, and I don’t know the other guy’s name yet.”

“Ha, well that won’t do!” She looked up and cupped her hands over her eyelids as she gained sight of the scene.  “Ah, Jean Kirchstein.  That’s who it is.”

Armin stared back with now an additional layer of surprise.  “You knew his name?”

“Oh yeah, I got all of your names!  _Armin_.  I saw your applications!” She laughed, then continued in a softer tone.  “You know, this really is a good time for you to get to learn the names of the other students.  You could be teammates with some of them soon enough.”

Gosh, Armin didn’t like to think about that.  He nodded anyways, though.  It was hard to imagine—the possibility of being on a team apart from Eren and Mikasa.  They were more inclined to assume the better option – they would get to choose their teammates, and as such, they would obviously stay together.  But with comments like this…yeah, Armin wasn’t so sure.  It could be random.  He could end up with anybody.  The Huntsman Schools were, deliberately, a mystery in their workings.  He just knew it would be different from life at Signal Academy, where everyone was an individual and they could still hang out with each other as much as they wanted to.  Signal was the primary school for huntsmen, where young trainees at thirteen would go and learn combat training along with a basic, general education. 

Beacon was like the university.  Here was what they were training for.  Here was where they would become true, certified huntsman.  And Armin knew he wasn’t ready.  That there was the hard part, the painful one.  More than just wanting to be connected to his two only friends, he needed them.  But was that really right?  Was it selfish?  Because here, unlike Signal, they would be a team.  All they knew was that they would be divided in groups of four, and stay that way for the next four years.  They would be graded together, do missions together.  He had to face it – he could drag them down.  But it was all too soon to know.  He didn’t even know what they would be doing first.

So yeah, he dared hope he could end up with Mikasa and Eren, or at least one of them.  But he had a feeling it wasn’t likely, or at least, it might not actually be the best thing for them.  But perhaps, they accounted for this?  There could be an entrance exam, with students divided by skill sets, or maybe just to pair the strong with the weak.  Or the strong with the strong and the weak with the weak.  Or perhaps, the strongest got to choose their teams?  In that case, he supposed he had a chance – surely Mikasa at least would be one of them.  There was no questioning her ability; she was, after all, top of her class back at Signal.

But really, he didn’t know.  Professors and graduated huntsmen alike wouldn’t say a thing – freshmen would be forced to face the mystery and hope for the best.  But still, in spite of it, he hoped.  They all got into this together; he wished they could stay together.  Besides, He wasn’t sure, given his history, that he could be friends with anyone else.  Which was why mingling with other huntsmen-to-be still bordered on laughable.

“Well then!” Hanji exclaimed and thus shattered through his muddle of thoughts.  “Here they are: Jean Kirchstein.  Beef sandwich, swiss cheese, romaine lettuce.  And Eren Jaegar: also beef, white cheddar cheese, lettuce, and pickles.”

Oh…great.  Eren was sure going to love this.  “Ummm…yeah, great!  I guess we should tell them…or I could tell them…”

His moment of sheer terror that followed must have been noticeable, for Hanji sent him a wink in return and strode forward from behind the counter.  “Don’t worry; I got this.”

Armin followed close behind as the Assistant Headmaster of Beacon Academy and right now, his only hope, entered into the fray, which to his relief, had calmed down considerably.  Eren’s eyes were safely at their normal teal, and the guy he now knew as Jean was sitting down, with his hands to his temples and looking exasperated as ever.

“I just want to eat, man…”

“Dude, so do I…” 

“Well, what’s this, here?” Hanji’s voice came suddenly and completely without warning.  Armin felt sorry for the two of them—they didn’t even see her coming.  In an instant they were both scrambling to stand at attention, eyes wide as the dinner plates they had yet to come to know.

“Assistant Headmaster Hanji!” the guy Armin know knew to be Jean blurted out in a manner much like himself when faced with the smiling second-in-command of all of Beacon Academy.

“Yep, that’d be me,” Hanji responded with a laugh that obviously only served to make them more uncomfortable.  “So, what is it?  Fighting over the food?  Now, look, I know the ingredients might not be up to your expectations – my chicken was quite dry, if I do say so myself – but I assure you, Talia is doing the best she can.  I…”

“No!” Eren blurted out, although his face instantly registered regret as all eyes turned on him, for even he was not immune to nervousness in the presence of authority figures.  “I mean…no, that’s not it.  The food’s great, I’m sure.  You see, I had this sandwich, and then I put it down for a second, and then I picked it back up…”

“…the wrong sandwich,” Jean interrupted smoothly, obviously not willing to give him the whole explanation, but still obviously flushed with embarrassment at the idea of even having to explain this argument in the first place.  “His has to be that one,” he motioned to the infamous foiled pickled sandwich still sitting there and growing colder by the minute.  “Because _I_ set my sandwich there.  But…that’s it.  It’s nothing.  Not a big deal, really.”

“Hmmm…” Hanji nodded slowly and then just stood there, feigning pondering as she left the two of them and all who cared still to watch hanging.  Armin winced with the gruesome anticipation.  Maybe he should have told them himself.  What was Hanji even doing?  This wasn’t helping.  This was toying.

“So you are absolutely certain this one’s yours, right?” Hanji asked vaguely. 

The two boys answered with a hesitant but simultaneous ‘yes’.

“Well, sounds like a simple solution, then!  Let me just see here…” Hanji whipped out now her scroll, the shining blue screen of the handheld computer & phone device reflecting off of her glasses with a shimmer.  She scrolled through – or rather, _pretended_ to.  Because Armin knew she already knew.  So why…?

“A-ha!” Hanji feigned a eureka and ‘read’ out the results Armin already knew, The full contents of each sandwich, by name.

Jean gave a start of exuberance but obviously suppressed it.  Eren cringed at the words before him and dropped the parcel into his opponent’s hands, utterly defeated by stone cold fact.  It was over.  Oh, thank the stars it was over. 

“Look, I…” Eren started but quickly stopped, jumping a little when a sudden hand appeared on his shoulder. 

“Let’s go, Eren,” Mikasa spoke for the first time since it started, her eyes now trained into Eren’s with that knowing, serious look that told him clearly he needed to put the shovel down and back off while he still could.  Eren sighed but relented, picking up the horrible pickle sandwich with eyes of pain.

“So…do you still want it?”

That girl with the quiver was still here, and she still looked hopeful even after all this time.  Eren, on his part, obliged, holding out the sandwich at arm’s length.  “Have at it.”

The girl took it eagerly, the one whose name Armin most certainly still did not know.   But, he supposed he’ll figure it all out soon enough.  For now, he was glad to walk away, following after his only two friends in the world as they slid off with Mikasa’s guidance.

“You can have half of my sandwich if you want,” Armin offered readily, a relaxed smile settling in.

Eren turned back to him and smiled.  “Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Wait!  You didn’t get any black olives on yours, did you?” Eren suddenly whirled back on it suspiciously, glaring at the aluminum wrapping.

“No, they didn’t have none of that,” Armin answered readily, because of course, they wouldn’t be that fancy with it.

“Oh, that’s good,” Eren breathed a sigh of relief.  “I hate that stuff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I couldn't resist. As a parallel to the show/manga, I wanted Eren and Jean to first meet through a fight, and I thought it'd funny to make that a stupid argument over a sandwich. Nice way to break the ice, right? And showcase all of their mad people skills.
> 
> As far as daddy Grisha goes; yeah, he'll show up eventually. But it's mostly foreshadowing.
> 
> Oh yes, one more note: you might notice, there are no Faunus in this story. I thought about including them as a thing, even played with the idea of making Sasha one, like a hummingbird (but are there bird faunus? I'm not sure...). But, however, it just didn't fit in with the story that well. Although, funny enough, the idea of their plight will kind of carry over into other things.
> 
> But yeah, things like semblances and such will start being revealed next chapter. Until then, feel free to ask questions! Their world is complicated, after all. Unless the question is a spoiler, of course; in that case I'll just smile and nod.


	2. Dawn: Taking to the Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soon, the first day at Beacon Academy will begin...and teams shall be chosen. Meanwhile, Mikasa tries to be social.

_“_ I _care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself.”_  
― Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

 

* * *

 

_Sweat trickled down his trembling hands.  His usually calm and stoic demeanor was broken, cracked like shards of glass, like the shattered remains of a ruined city.  Blood still stained his clothes, his eyes._

_“_ You _did this!  You let this happen!”_

_The other man stared back unflinchingly.  But his brows remained furrowed from the stress, his mouth in a firm, straight line._

_“No.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Mikasa Ackerman didn’t flinch.  It wasn’t always that way, but as far as she or anyone else knew, it would be that way always from now unto forever.  Because, after all, it was the only way to go.  Stare down your trials until they move aside.  Or, until they defeat you.  But Mikasa Ackerman hasn’t failed yet.  Even now, she was pretty certain she wouldn’t.

Last night, the entire freshman class of Beacon Academy was dumped in one great common room on the ship to sleep, and for obvious purposes: they wanted them all to talk to each other.  This, of course, was a horrible idea, and if Mikasa had her way, she would have none of it.  But for some reason, Armin seemed to think differently.  He suggested that they split up for a bit tonight to mingle with the rest of the freshman class, because they needed to know who could be their teammates and all that.  Mikasa supposed she could understand that – the teams in Beacon were going to be in fours, and as fate would have it, there were only three of them.  Although three, of course, was all she needed.  She wasn’t about to change – she didn’t know these people.  She had no reason to trust them.  But she did suppose, when it came time for forming teams, they would have had to pick some random fourth member, given the rules.  So, she guessed she could see the point.  At any rate, she trusted Armin’s judgment.  Although, to tell the truth, he didn’t look happy about it, either.

“So…where are you from?”

A voice broke out towards Mikasa from where she stood socializing.  Well, that is, if by “socializing” you meant that she was standing silently in the midst of a bunch of random girls chattering with her own face void of both speech and emotion, and comfortably half-hidden behind her giant, scarlet scarf.  But now, she turned to face her random questioner, and found this girl sitting on the ground, back to the wall, sleeping bag neatly folded in front of her.  Most people around here were stretching out similar bags, given that they were all sitting on the floor tonight.  Mikasa very much wasn’t, as she neither had one of those or thought it to have much point in use anyways.  Besides, she would feel more comfortable sleeping on the ground, in her clothes.

“Signal,” she answered simply.  She wasn’t sure what else to do with the question.  The girl seemed like she might have been expecting more, as she kept nodding awkwardly, but then again, she might have just been awkward herself.  Mikasa wondered how old she was.  She seemed a little young for the school, but that might have just been how she looked, due to the fact she was so small.  She was a little pale in the face, too, with long, golden blonde hair, and a rose-colored nightgown that looked like some sort of nice silk.

“Oh, nice.  I’m, uhhh…from Sanctum,” she spoke softly as she remained crouched up against the wall.

“Hey, I think she meant where your home is!”

A new voice broke into the conversation – apparently a common practice in the art of “mingling” – this one light-hearted and sure.  Mikasa turned to the side to look at her, this girl smiling and currently attired in purple and green camo pajamas, and at this decided that social interaction was, indeed, a bad idea, and she was going to leave now.  Because lo and behold, it was _that_ girl.  Well, perhaps no one in particular, for she did not know her and had no clue concerning her name.  But, she did recognize her as the one from lunch today who took Eren’s sandwich.  Although, admittedly, this was not an incriminating move: it was annoying.  That situation was annoying.

But she didn’t walk away yet.  For two seconds too many she just stared, which was enough to unnerve the redhead’s smile and cause her to proceed from that to scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.  “Ha, I mean, not that talking about schools is bad; I could be wrong!  I’m from Baron Academy myself, back in Vacuo.  And uh, that’s where I’m from!  The northern forests.  From Vacuo.  I’m Sasha, by the way.”  At this, the girl named Sasha extended out her hand in greeting, nervous smile plastered across her face.

On her part, Mikasa’s first reaction was to look down at the offered hand and, well, stare.  A handshake?  Was that how they were doing this?  She looked back up at her face with a sideways glance at the blonde girl still sitting there.  She really had no reason to talk to these people.  But, she supposed, she didn’t have anything better to do at the moment.  “Mikasa,” she responded to the assumed question with eyes set on Sasha’s, though the hand she still declined, to which effect the redhead silently pulled it away. 

Instead, Sasha jerkily broke her gaze to turn to the other girl.  “Alright, cool.  So, what about you?  What’s your name?  And…Sanctum, you said?  That’s in Mistral, right?  Is that where you’re from?”

“Christa Lentz,” the blonde girl offered shyly.  “And yeah, Sanctum is in Mistral.  But that’s not where I’m from.  I’m from Atlas…a small town in Atlas.”

“Nice, three out of the four, right?” Sasha looked pleased as she nodded.  “Now you just have to see Vacuo!  I know, I thought about staying in Vacuo and going to Shade Academy, but then I thought, might as well learn from someplace different, right?  That, and Beacon has more resources and was harder to get into, so…?” she accented with a self-satisfied shrug, because, well, it was true.  Beacon was rather prestigious. 

“So what about you?  Are you from Vale?”

It took Mikasa a moment to realize she was the one being spoken to – surprising, since she thought she had done left this conversation.  So after a stunned moment, she replied, “Yes.”

“Hmmm, I guess so.  Could’ve fooled me, though.  You really look Mistralian, you know?”

“Yes…” Yes, that was true.  No, she didn’t want to talk about it.

“And your weapon.  Also has the look.  Traditionally, anyways.  I guess anything goes nowadays, am I right?  Does look cool, though,” she nodded with a slight smile.  “Can we see?”

Mikasa remembered when they first made their weapons.  It was the second year, back at Signal Academy, when they were 14 and excited as ever to do anything like what “real” huntsmen do.  It took a long time–these weapons were built to last and required a steep learning curve to do—but that made them even more special once completed.  This was something they might keep forever.  It was personalized, its character about as bound to a person as their semblance was.  Some were complex, composing many traditional weapons into one; others were simpler, with a more straightforward and clean design; but they were all unique.  They had to be – it was how the instructors told them to do it.  And so, once they were done, it was only natural that all the students would go into a frenzy showing them off to each other…for days.  It was an event.  So inevitably, that was the first time Mikasa ever really had interactions with the other students, besides Eren and Armin.  She just didn’t need to before; at least, she didn’t think she did.  Her training, her studies…that was all personal.  But upon being asked to share your weapon, your pain and pride, the most physical piece of you that you had, it was hard to say no.  And, truth be told, it was actually kind of enjoyable.  After all, as might be befitting a huntress-to-be, she was rather fond of weaponry, especially her own.

And so, at this, she obliged.  She reached down at her sides, where the belt she still persisted to wear held two parallel short scabbards.  On the scale of complex to simple, she had gone for simple.  From the scabbard she produced two sleek, decorated hilts, etched with symbols that were, yes, rather Mistralian in style, with elegant, curved lines, floral accents, and foreign characters reading “earth”, “water”, and “moon.”  And then, with the click of a switch, those hilts sprouted blades: solid, gleaming, and thick, with a slight curve and angled end.  It was sleek, it was impressive-looking, and that was pretty much as far as her mechanics went.  The blades just protracted and retracted, but that was enough, and she was happy with it. 

“Oh, nice!” Sasha complimented emphatically, eyes following the blades from tip to hilt.  “That’s a cool style!”

“I modeled it after a traditional Katana, but narrower,” Mikasa replied.  “The tang was cured with metallic dust.  It makes it dense and hard to break.”

“Cool!  Can’t wait to see it in action!” Sasha accented with a wink.  “Hey, you can have a look at mine!” In the traditional manner of sharing weaponry, she at once sped back to her spot on the floor where her one was kept, since she, like most everyone else, was also wearing her bedtime clothes at the moment, and wasn’t still wearing her weapon on her like Mikasa was.  But Mikasa still remembered it from the lunchroom scene.  She came back proudly with a quiver full of arrows and a bow, long and stylized and far more mecha than anything Mikasa ever made. 

“This here is my fair lady Tellspiel,” Sasha announced.  “She has interlocking parts, arrows that can cut through steel, and can hold a dust round!” She showed a notch above the hole through which an arrow would fit, which was just the size for a crystal that would inevitably lock onto the arrowhead as it flies.  She then pulled out a few arrows, with a variety of styles.  “Let’s see…this one explodes into a volley on the way to its target, this one condenses with airflow to pierce through layers, this one has a net, and…here’s a regular one.  It works good with my semblance, though.”

“What’s your semblance?” Christa asked, still listening close on the conversation.

“Plasma!” Without hesitation, Sasha proceeded to set down the arrows and produce a round, glowing, purple orb in the palm of her freed hand, bright and fiery and seemingly alive as it moved and flowed with the motion of her fingers.  She then released, and it was gone into thin air.  “Yeah, it doesn’t go far on its own, but it’s good when charging an object.  Explodes pretty nicely when given enough impact.”

Mikasa nodded in understanding.  A lot of people had semblances like that, ones they could use with their weapons or on their own in battle.  Mikasa’s was not like that, though it was okay, for she didn’t need it to.  Most people equated semblances with battle.  After all, as some might say, your semblance was the greatest source of power you had, once it manifested.  Everyone had one.  And it gave everyone something unique, a power any other human would live without, something that reflected the depths of their soul, their Aura, or so it was said.  Either way, like your weapon became the most personal thing of oneself that you could choose, your semblance was that personal thing you could not choose.  It was a part of you.  And, for some, the connection was quite evident.  It did not surprise Mikasa one bit that Sasha possessed a semblance that could potentially explode.

“That sounds like a good tactic,” Christa chimed in after Sasha, giving a small, congenial smile.  “I don’t have any semblance yet, but my weapon makes up for it, I think.  I…oh, hi!” Christa stopped abruptly to wave at someone behind her, at which Mikasa turned around to see…another someone she recognized.  Brilliant.  No, not from Signal, she had yet to meet anyone else from there, this was, as fate would have it, also someone from the lunchroom.  Who, as she remembered, was that smug-looking girl taunting Armin somewhere in the middle of the ordeal.  And even now, she looked the same, adorned in a white T-shirt, gray sweatpants, and a light, casual grin across her dark, freckled face as she strolled into the scene.

Christa turned back to Sasha and Mikasa.  “Hey, this is Ymir.  I met her earlier today.  Ymir, this is Sasha and Mikasa.  We were just showing each other our weapons.  Would you…I mean, if you don’t mind…like to show yours?  Mikasa might like it.  She has a sword, as well…” she trailed off at the last part, looking a bit more shy after everyone turned their attention to her, but Ymir didn’t skip a beat.

“Ha!  If you insist,” she retained her smile as she pulled out a dagger—from the pocket of her sweatpants, odd enough—and clicked a switch.  Immediately the hilt broke apart and whirled, clicking into a longer version of itself, a sword, basically producing the blade in a manner similar to Mikasa’s but with a lot more moving parts.  The result was a single sword—strong, hard, and shaped like a cutlass.  “This one’s Sephone,” she held their gazes for a second longer before suddenly, the sword appeared to burst in flames, a flashy spark before it died down to a duller yet still intimidating burning glow.

“Wow!” Sasha’s eyes widened noticeably as she peered closer.  “You did that with Fire Dust?”

“Nope,” Ymir replied, looking satisfied.  “It’s my semblance.”

“Man…does really look like dust, though.  Nice.” 

And, it did, except the fact that it was tinged blue towards the bottom.  Dust would a little more pure red, though the comparison was applicable.  A lot of hunters and huntresses utilized dust in their weapons, crystals that seemed to form the very essence of certain elements: fire, ice, earth, water, lightning, plus other, rarer forms, such as metal.  They could be extremely useful, although, as fact would have it, they were quite expensive.  Hence why Mikasa declined to use it.  But, as students, they did have the privilege of receiving some for free, hence why Armin decided to include dust capabilities in his weapon.  Because, otherwise, it wouldn’t work, for the three of them were all quite broke.

Ymir shrugged in acceptance of the compliment.  She turned back then to Christa.  “So, have you showed them yours, yet?”

Christa shook her head and reached for her bag.  What she pulled was perhaps, more than the rest of theirs, a true representation of the kind of weapons these schools liked–ones that transformed with everything in it, including, of course, a gun.  She pulled out a fan, one with metallic blades that extended as tall as her navel to her chin.  She stood up to show it.  “I…went for something two sided,” she collapsed the fan to one side, where a long dagger was revealed.  “This works as a dagger, obviously…you flip it to collapse into the other side, and it’s a gun,” she flipped to reveal the other side, metallic and gleaming with a barrel that seemed to adjust to fit bullets of different sizes.  “It can hold a dust crystal, If I want it to.  And…the fan, when revealed, it’ll work like a shield.  Well, for bullets, anyways.  And I could click this…” She clicked and with a sharp _scheeng_ pointed knives extended from each of the blades of the fan, glistening with special exuberance even in the dim light of the room.  She then retracted the knives, and collapsed the fan back again.

“Wow, that’s a nice one!” Sasha complimented, and Mikasa could not help but to nod in turn.  It did look quite well made, sleek with a solid function to all its showiness.

“It does have a good design.  Can you extend the fan with the blades revealed?” she commented in interest.

Christa nodded.  “It works well for tear damage, when the blade is already stuck into something.”

Both Sasha and Mikasa were noticeably impressed, but for whatever reason, Ymir still just seemed amused.  “Hmmm, it’s okay.  But a little reckless, don’t you think?”

Christa said nothing, but Sasha whirled back on her, eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Reckless?  How?  It’s a good weapon!”

Ymir just shrugged.  “Hey, go short range if you want, but I’m just saying.  What’s the weapon’s name?  That’s important, right?  Tell them.”

Christa appeared a little embarrassed as she proceeded to stare at the ground.  “Colchis.”

Ymir laughed.  “Lovely!  That is, quite lovely, darling.  Fitting,” she averted her gaze to stare curiously at the walls, leaving only confusion in her wake.  Sasha turned to catch Mikasa’s eyes, motioning in burning question, but Mikasa only shrugged.  This wasn’t her argument.

“It refers to mythos, doesn’t it?” A new voice, yet another female one, broke in to the conversation, quiet but calm, stoic yet thoughtful.  Everyone naturally turned to look at her, where just a few paces away she stood leaning against the wall all alone.  She had a light but firm build, with short, light blonde hair and icy blue eyes.  But what immediately caught Mikasa’s attention was that in one regard, she was just like her.  This girl too was still wearing her normal clothes, rather than sleepwear, and by the looks of the gauntlets worn on either wrist, she still had her weapon on her, too.  Mikasa had yet to see anyone else attired like that.  Perhaps it felt most natural to her as well.

In response to the question, Christa ventured a nod, “Yeah.”

“That’s natural,” the girl responded while gazing in their general direction, though without looking at any one of them in particular.  “The stories from the old myths are enticing to relate to.  Some say they are based off of truth.  But, they are most likely just stories,” she mused, taking a second to gaze forward in some kind of solemn thought.  “Not that you asked,” she added, after a moment’s pause.

“No…it’s true,” Sasha ventured, albeit awkwardly.  “Mine, Tellspiel, she’s named after this guy who saves his village from a dark lord trying to take them over.  It’s…an old Vacuo tale.  But yeah, I guess it kind of inspired me,” she finished with a shrug, and a short moment of silence ensued.  Which was, interesting.  And different.  Mikasa didn’t remember quite talking this way with anyone else before, besides Eren and Armin.  That is, for someone else to tell of a dream.

“So Mikasa!” Suddenly, Sasha broke tone and turned back to her.  “It’s getting late; don’t you have some pajamas to change into?”

Mikasa let out a sigh.  Here we were again.  “No, I’m fine.”

“You’re…sleeping in that?

“I’ll take off the belt.”

At this, Sasha just laughed.  “Oh, this is going to be an interesting semester.”

The next morning was when everyone was called to get ready and come outside, the ship landing so they could finally set foot on Beacon.  All the while, Mikasa was trying to take time to think about this.  She needed to talk to Eren and Armin, but she wasn’t getting the chance, as they were all always stuck with the larger group, and then, pushed to get ready.  But today was the day they needed to form teams.  Mikasa did her part.  She talked and mingled.  But that didn’t mean she knew who to suggest as a possible fourth member.  Sasha she got to know for sure, but she was definitely not it.  Far too talkative and flighty.  Christa was interesting, but she seemed a little too mild-mannered for a huntress.  And then Ymir…definitely not Ymir.  And so, as it stood, that only left the other girl, whose name she later found out was Annie, but sadly, Mikasa couldn’t say much there, as she barely spoke with her at all.  But, she did seem to have a level head, and from the looks of it, that might be a rare commodity around her.

On the way to the place where everyone got summoned for the morning, the cliffs overlooking the Emerald Forest, Mikasa finally got a chance to talk.  As it turned out, Eren and Armin did get a chance to talk to some of the guys, but unfortunately, that didn’t seem to turn up much, either.  Eren met these two guys, Reiner and Bertholdt, whom he actually liked (an impressive feat, to be sure), but that wasn’t an option, since they were already friends and thus would obviously want to be a pair.  Armin met a few: a Conny, Marco, and Thomas, but he didn’t have strong feelings towards any of them.  Or, at least, he wasn’t sure how to make sure.  It was an important decision.  But Mikasa, of course, assured him that it would be fine.  At least, it made sense to let Armin make a choice; she trusted his judgment.  But then, he still looked unsure, and said something about how they don’t know if it would be their choice at all.  This, of course, left Mikasa confused as to what he meant, but no sooner had he said that than they arrived there, and the conversation was over.  But soon, Mikasa realized what he meant.  She realized it exactly.

And no, she didn’t like it one bit.

“Students!” The address came out with a commanding shout, prompting all the lined-up freshmen to subconsciously stand at attention.  They had been led here by the instructors, to each stand on these individual platforms aligned in a row facing the edge of the cliff and the Emerald Forest down below.  It was anyone’s guess what would happen next, but many had an idea.  They now turned to face the addresser, who, as they were told, was none other that Erwin Smith himself, the Headmaster of Beacon Academy, effective leader of all the Kingdom of Vale.  By his side was Hange Zoe, Assistant Headmaster of Beacon Academy, second to Erwin alone.

“You stand here today as future Hunters and Huntresses!” He stared staunchly at the line with thick blonde furrowed brows and a square-set face, his stance like that of a muscled rock.  They say, before he was a Headmaster, he was one of the best Hunters of his generation.  No one doubted it.  “And one day, you will be on the field, where your job will be to fight the Grimm, and protect humanity!  Today is the true start of your training!  All of humanity depends on you to one day defend their towns and their people!  So you must be ready!  Many good hunters before you have died defending humanity; some have died on this very field where you will be training today!  This is why you are here; to be ready.  Your first task as students of Beacon Academy is to go into this forest and find and retrieve a relic.  Along the way, you must fight: the forest is filled with Grimm, some of advanced classes that have leveled cities in the past.  Unprepared students have given their lives on these training grounds.  So you must be ready!  Here is where you must decide—do you choose the path of a hunter?  From this day forward, the challenges presented to you as students will only be more dangerous!  So make your choice!  If you choose this call, offer up your hearts!  Humanity counts on you!”

The emphatic, _extended_ speech of the Headmaster was still ringing violently in the students’ ears when Assistant Headmaster Hange Zoe spoke up and offered the instructions everybody actually wanted to hear: “Yes, thank you!  So you see, you will all be going into the forest to find an abandoned temple, which has a variety of relics.  The goal is simply to retrieve one and bring it back here to the starting zone, and you will pass.  As you can see, you are standing on spring-loaded platforms; you will be launched from these to land into the forest below.  It will be a perfect time to work on your landing strategy,” she added with a twinkle in her glasses-covered eyes.  Around her, Mikasa heard a few students gulp in trepidation at the task or perhaps the long, long drop that came with it.  But Mikasa wasn’t fazed.  They had worked on landing strategies back at Signal; it was a must when fighting giant Grimm, they said.  All you needed was the skill to hit the ground in one piece.

“And now, I know many of you have been wondering about the teams.   Well, wonder no longer!” Hange announced with a suspiciously mischievous glint in her smile.  “You will have them today.  Once you land in the Emerald Forest, you shall continue your quest with the first person you see.  You will find together one relic for the both of you, and henceforth, this person will be your partner…for the entirety of your four years at Beacon!  And as you will see, all of the relics come in pairs, so the partners with the matching pair will join you to become four, and you will be a team.  Oh, and you’ll be roommates, too.  Any questions?  Good!  Let us begin!”

It would seem that the entirety of the now-beleaguered Beacon freshman class let out a collective gasp and henceforth lost all tension in their jaws at “partner”.  And for once, Mikasa was not exempt.  For a moment, albeit just a brief, terrifying moment, she flinched.  Because for once, she was not expecting this.  Although, maybe, she should have.  The administration was very noticeably tight-lipped about team formation upon coming here.  But this—was this a joke?  No choices?  Not even a choice by the instructors? A matching of skills?  Just luck?  She wasn’t for this.  She wasn’t for leaving her fate to luck.  She got here with Eren and Armin.  She was staying with them.  If nothing else, she was staying with Eren.  

At the conclusion of her speech, Hange pressed a button, and starting in turn with the first in line, the springboards started going off, leaving many flustered and still trying to get their bearings.  But now, Mikasa would know calm.  She set her stance, ready, and narrowed her eyes with incredible focus down the line.  Armin and Eren were both placed to her left, earlier in line, but Eren was closer.  She could see him.  She kept him in her focus as one by one, the springboards went off.  One, two…there he goes.  Seven more in between them.  She watched him as he sailed through the sky and landed, and angled her body towards his way, watching, focusing.  And counting.  One, two, three…there it went.  Her board suddenly bounced up from under her, careening her upwards, sending Mikasa sailing through the sky as if on wings.  Her eyes never left the spot where Eren disappeared into the tops of the trees, the spot where she was confident she would land, too.  She was landing exactly where he was landing, and by the rules of the game, they would be partners.  They would then find this temple (faster than everyone else, of course), and make sure they pick up whatever relic Armin and whatever partner he found had.  Whoever Armin ended up with, she would have all she needed.  She wasn’t letting fate decide on this one.  She was taking what was hers.

Mikasa sailed through the sky with a precise, graceful arch as she neared the crowns of the trees.  Breaking through their tops, she pulled out her swords, which too had a name—Kaguya—and in swift, practiced motion moved to score the trunk of the tree with their tips, breaking her speed in a spiraling motion all he way down.  Because yes, she knew her landing strategies.

She hit the ground, looked up, and…nothing.  The spot was immediately, undeniably empty of Eren or anyone else.  But she wasn’t wrong—he had been there.  That tree about a hundred feet ahead that was fallen with a crack through its middle was most likely his.  But…he wasn’t here.  Obviously, having landed a few seconds earlier, Eren had already done run off, which, admittedly, was a fact of which Mikasa should not have been surprised in the slightest.  But it was problematic.

Mikasa sprinted forward, trying to go in the direction he might have gone.  But where?  She could sense him—he was here, she knew it—but she did not know this forest.  It all looked the same.  She didn’t know what was here, or there…but she was finding him.  He can’t have gone far.  He was here, right here, she could, she would…

She skidded to a stop, eyes wide in a brief inexplicable moment of horror.  Tearing through the forest, she almost ran into someone.  Someone she saw.  Someone she made eye contact with, just now.  Someone she knew.  But it wasn’t Eren.  Or Armin.

“Mikasa?”

The moment past, her eyes dulled back to half-open state.  She didn’t say a word.  She wasn’t having this.  Promptly, she just turned straight around, to the opposite direction, and started walking away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And...the Emerald Forest arc begins! Mostly introductory stuff, obviously--got a fairly large cast of characters to bring in, plus RWBY's world is complicated, so yeah. But yeah, we'll be bouncing around to the other guys' perspectives soon enough. For now, it's just fun to imagine Mikasa trying to be "social" with these people.


	3. Dawn: What They Didn't Teach Us in School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first test at Beacon is underway, courtesy of the confusing Grimm-infested Emerald Forest. This is going to be a fun year.

_"‘That matters not,’ said Medb; ‘for there are mutual angers, and quarrels, and_

_wounds very red in every host and in every assembly of a great army. Look again for us_

_then, and tell us the truth._

_Fedelm the prophetess, how seest thou our host?’_

_‘I see very red, I see red,’ said Fedelm."_

\--Irish legend, “Cattle Raid of Cualnge”, translated by L. Winifred Faraday

* * *

 

He stared straight ahead with fire in his eyes and sweat beading across his face.  His hands gripped his sword, Riastrad, with cool confidence as he held it at the ready, its thick red mechanical blade just longer than he was tall.  The monster was even taller.  It luminated with dark black energy and walked on all fours with overgrown gangly legs, thick white claws, and long white spikes protruding from his joints and back.  Red eyes stared back at him through a porcelain white faceplate, dagger-like teeth bared just below.  But the boy kept staring, straight on and without so much as a blink.  His mouth upturned in a smile.

“AAAAAHHHHHH!”

He charged forward at the Grimm.  Before him was a Beowolf, but within seconds, it was sure to be no more.  He swung Riastrad and jumped at the creature’s face before it could respond, bringing down his sword with a satisfying crack upon its head.  The boy’s eyes gleamed ferociously.  In an instant, the Beowolf’s mass vanished from beneath him.  He landed back firm on the ground, and the monster dissolved into dust.

Too bad wolves came in packs.  Six…seven others surrounded him, awake and growling and hungry for the taste of fleshy human.  But it didn’t matter.  Eren Jaegar was having the time of his life.

Eren let loose another scream as he swung his sword again and landed it like a club onto another Beowolf’s leg.  These creatures of Grimm, true to their name, had the form of wolves, besides being twice as massive with legs that let it walk upright.  This Beowolf ran forward, causing Eren to stumble in his attack.  It reared up and lunged for him, but Eren dodged him by ducking and running forward into him, finally and forcibly slicing off that leg like pound cake.  And no sooner had the Grimm come toppling, when he charged to finish him, cutting into the chest, and letting it crumble into dust.

Eren stood there, panting.  “Yeah!  Who’s next!?”

He spoke to an audience of no one but him and the wolves.  Six of them.  As it would be, the Emerald Forest did not disappoint.  It couldn’t have been more than two minutes of landing and running into the trees when he ran across the pack.  And thus, two minutes was all it took to make him decide that Beacon Academy was exactly precisely the right choice.

The Beowolves ran for him with increased vigor, but their moves were still slow and lopsided just by form compared to other Grimm.  When they lunged for him, he lunged back.  Riastrad swung high and low.  Another wolf went at him from behind, his teeth snapping dangerously close to Eren’s exposed shoulder.  His hunter gear was light, a plain beige shirt under a thin but sturdy dark red jacket, only weighed down by the oversized sheath draped across his back and the massive sword that went in it.

He swung back towards the Grimm, his eyes alight like fire.  In as such, his irises had already shifted from their natural turquoise to an angry, bright red, and the energy pulsed through his arms, into his hands, and came out into his swing.  He sliced through the Beowolf’s neck and it fell.  He always had anger for the Grimm, but in this moment, it was matched or even eclipsed with a sort of mad thrill.  He never got to do this back at Signal.  In their primary school, they eventually did fight Grimm, but it was always in groups and most certainly with supervision.  Supervision that, as it was, pretty much just stood there and kept rebuking Eren about how his form was sloppy or he needed to stop yelling so much.  But there was no one here this time.  He didn’t need them.  He was all alone, against a pack of Grimm, and he was _killing it_.  Literally.

He looked ahead and saw more Beowolves running for him from the cover of the trees, joining the dwindling pack.  There was five…eight…?  A lot.  They kept coming, but he didn’t care.  He screamed again with no holds barred, knowing that because of his semblance, it made him all that much stronger.  He swung Riastrad like it was nothing, and he skewered them.  The wolves ran at him still.  One stretched open his jaws and lunged forward to bite Eren’s face, and in an instant he was compelled to block it with the broad side of his sword.  The wolf then came with his claws, swinging a deep undercut.  Eren jumped back but got close another wolf behind him.  He whirled his body around and cut straight through that one, just to hear the first growling closer.  He swung back, staring straight into the teeth of the Grimm.  As the Beowolf lunged close, he had to pull his sword back from behind him, moving as fast as he…

_POOM!_

The Beowolf stopped.  A hole, angled upwards, appeared through his head.

_POOM! POOM!_

Two more shots for good measure, and the Grimm collapsed.  His great black mass dissolved, revealing of flash of yellow color several lengths behind him.  He held a shield in front of his face, bright ocean blue eyes and light blonde hair appearing just above it.  From the top of the shield his gun’s barrel was smoking.  A barrel that, as it was, was ready to be joined by others.  Holes lined the inner rim of the large, round, mechanistic shield, hosting different sizes for different shots.  The multiple, shifting layers of the gold and black shield could move and lock, with an outer arm that could click anywhere for layering a shot with dust.  At least, that was how Eren heard it worked.  All he ever saw was a bunch of complicated spinning and clicking, but that was just fine, because it worked great.  And as far as he was concerned, there was only guy in this school who could pull that off.

“Armin!”

Eren grinned with not a moment’s hesitation, heart elated to a state far greater than even fighting Grimm could make it.  Yes!  He knew it.  He knew they would find each other anyways.  He ran forward in spite of the hoard, just extending out his sword again and hashing through the Beowolves as he passed them.

Armin was panting hard, his shield now lowered.  “Eren!” His eyes darted around the scene.  “Did you find…”

“Nope!” Eren replied with zealous enthusiasm, his eyes still red from the fight, and held out his hand for Armin to grasp in greeting.  “Just me!”  Armin took his hand, and after a moment smiled back when they both got it.  “We’re partners!”

Alright!  This was just as he hoped.  He released his greeting and swung back around toward the Grimm running at them, some guys in front rearing up on two legs with a growl.  “We’ll find Mikasa after we take these guys!”  As it was most likely, she would find them first.  They were going to be a team!

Eren went at the remaining Grimm full tilt.  Instinctively, he and Armin took two halves of the pack, him slashing into one, and Armin firing into the other.  And now, as he mercilessly sliced through a Beowolf’s neck, stabbed another, and hacked into the exposed side of another, he let himself relish the feeling.  Power.  And revenge.  He wasn’t afraid anymore.  He had no reason to be.  As a hunter, he would have everything he needed, and Beacon was going to make him into a hunter.  He knew this was exactly what he wanted to be.

“Eren!”

Eren turned to see Armin calling for his attention just as he released a shot into the ground, glistening white, that exploded upon the Grimm on impact.  Ice dust.  The capsule created a sphere of ice that froze a group of the Beowolves’ feet into place, and Eren caught on immediately.  He ran for them and sliced through the stalled and stunned Grimm, eliciting a few squeals in pain before they turned to dust, every last one of them.

It wasn’t long before the remaining few were taken out, too.  A few, sadly, ran away.  One of them leaped forward to face Eren head-on, rearing up and lording his tallness over him while swiping with his claws, but Eren ducked and lunged, skewered the beast all the way through.  Under Riastrad’s hold, it dissolved, and faded into nothing.

“Yeah!” Eren exclaimed as he held up his sword in victory, as now there were none left to see.  He grinned wide at the audience of trees and panted heavily, as slowly his eyes faded from red to turquoise again.

“We need to get moving!” Armin brought Eren back to reality with the sound of lingering distress as he motioned into the forest, his shield collapsing into a gold gauntlet against his right arm.

Eren nodded and ran ahead, Armin running after him.  He did, however, realize in a few minutes that he had no idea where he was going, and was thus inclined to stop.  He looked back at Armin, just catching up and still panting behind him.  “So, this ‘temple’.  It’s…?” he trailed off, staring at his new partner expectantly, because, well, he didn’t know what to ask, but he figured Armin might have an idea.

“We…we could…” Armin spouted out in between gasps.  “On the way down, I saw an opening…in the trees.  It might be it.  If we use the cliff behind us as a guide, it should be on the far side that way,” he pointed weakly.  “But, if we could find high ground to see, that would be better.”

The gesture of vague direction was all Eren needed.  “Alright, great!” He kept running forward.  High ground, huh?  Made sense.  High ground…high ground…could they climb the trees?  Well, maybe.  They didn’t look climbable, though.  The trunks were too tall.  Eren just kept going, his hands sometimes instinctively reaching in anticipation to touch the sword sheathed across his back, collapsed somewhat but still held on by a shoulder strap on account of being so large.  Most of their weapons were made to collapse and expand like that, for ease, but his didn’t fold down quite as neatly as Armin’s did.  Or, he guessed, like Mikasa’s.  She hardly included mechanics in hers at all.  The twin swords just slid in and out.  But that didn’t really matter, because no one doubted that she was great at using them, or that she could run faster than any of them even with her long swords by her side, just by skill alone.

“Eren!”

Speeding Eren skidded to a stop once again, head swiveling back to where Armin stood alert and wide-eyed.  He gestured towards the trees, a little ways to the right.  “Do you hear that?”

 _HHHOOOOO!  SCREEEEEE_!

The moment Eren stopped, he heard the screams too.  But those weren’t just any screams.  Those were _Grimm_ screams.  A big one.

He ran towards the sound’s direction, but it wasn’t far away.  The trees soon broke into grass with the downwards slope of a hill.  At the base of the hill was none other than a Deathstalker, a giant scorpion-like beast with that bony Grimm armor on its face, pinchers, and all along its spiky spine.  Its head was as tall as two people.  Its tail was more like five.  It was much, much bigger than any Beowolf, and in a heartbeat, Eren wanted it.

_HEEEEEEEEE!_

Standing on the top of the hill, Eren grabbed his sword and whipped it forth in an instant.  To his side, he could hear the successive clicks of Armin’s shield.

“Eren, look!”

Armin brought his attention from the monster to the ground, where two other students already stood fighting it.  Given the Grimm’s size, it would be no wonder they looked to be struggling.  There was some guy he didn’t recognize, and then…

“Hey, it’s that the horse-face guy from yesterday!”

“Uh…yeah…”

“Okay.  Come on!” He leaped forward off the top of the slope.  There was no question about it; he was taking this Grimm.  He would take all of them, no matter how many, no matter how big.  His heart seared with the motion as he ran for it, his sword always at the ready.  This was what he was here for.  He didn’t need to be afraid anymore.  He didn’t need to be helpless anymore.  As a hunter, he had power over the Grimm, and that was all he needed.  This was his starting line.  One day, he would kill every last Grimm on Remnant.

He took a starting leap from the base of the slope and sailed towards the Deathstalker with a hearty shout.  His sword collided hard with his side, and recoiled to bounce him off, but Eren Jaegar landed on his feet.  He was here for _this!_   His eyes flashed red, and he ran forward.

 

* * *

 

Jean Kirchstein was not here for this.

He let out a couple of rounds as the thing screeched like no tomorrow.  As far as he could see, the bullets bounced off its face like toothpicks.  It lunged forward with a powerful swipe of its pinchers, forcing Jean to dodge and jump back, just as the spikes flew all too close to his face.  He grabbed his gun again, a long-barreled rifle with an explosives launcher, and let forth a grenade-like projectile onto its top.  Valkyrie hit its mark.

_SCREEEEEE!_

Grimm had such a hellish scream.  This one had to be one of the worst.  He knew this assignment wasn’t going to go down without some Grimm being fought—Headmaster Erwin made that _painfully_ obvious.  But in a forest?  He still expected just Beowolves or Ursa.  Maybe even a Boarbatusk or two.  Not a _Deathstalker_!  He wasn’t ready for something like this.  Shouldn’t they train their students first, and then send them for the hardest Grimm?  You only learned so much in primary school.  He had never even seen one of these guys before today.

The Deathstalker came forward with another swipe of its pinchers, and Jean readied to dart out of the way.

“I got you!”

Instead, Marco ran forward and lunged for the exposed arm, black and armor-less.  His pole arm, Sinsonte, stabbed into the flesh, and successive shots buried bullets into the spot.  Still the Deathstalker made motion to move, and Marco too jumped back, the beast’s focus now turned on his person rather than Jean’s.  Thus, Jean didn’t waste a moment.  He crouched in an ideal spot and aimed, firing into the scorpion’s mass, and hopefully, doing damage.

_“Hey, that works!  Your gun is good for long-range; I can be short-range!  It makes for a good pair…”_

Marco seemed enthusiastic when they first saw each other and were thus deemed partners right there on the Emerald Forest floor, though Jean couldn’t see why.  Marco didn’t know him.  He didn’t know his skill as a huntsman, or how good he would be in a team.  If he did know something concerning him, it would be, sadly, that embarrassing incident in the lunch room yesterday.  But, if he knew, he didn’t say anything.  Still, they had no idea about what kind of person the other would be, and yet, he seemed to just go with it anyways.  Although, to be honest, even Jean wasn’t sure what kind of teammate he would be; at least, not with a semblance like the one he had.

The Deathstalker’s eyes turned his way, aggravated by the constant barrage of missiles. He moved forward….

“AAAAHHHHHH!”

Jean’s fingers froze on the trigger.  That scream was not a Grimm.  That was a flippin’ _person_.  Jean could hardly believe it when he saw this boy zoom through the sky, crashing down a sword right smack on the scorpion’s armor.  And…oh no.  He recognized him.  It was _that_ guy.

“Eren!”

He was quickly followed by that blond kid running down the hill after him, whom Jean also recognized, from yes, the stupid lunchroom incident.

“Hey! Watch it!” Jean yelled, aggravated, at the wiry sword-wielding whirlwind that was apparently ‘Eren’.  What did he think he was doing, just running in on his own!?  He was blocking his shot!

“Ack!”

The Deathstalker backhanded the kid with his claws, and Jean ran to renew his position.  He got at the other flank and shot while it was turned to Eren, hitting marks into his side.  Then, it turned.  And Jean was way too close.  _Frick_.  He jumped back as the beast swiped at him, pulling back to a secure position, and covered by another barrage of bullet fire.  He looked back and saw the blond kid behind a smoking shield. 

Marco ran to his side, a slight pant in his voice.  “Hey, looks like we have help!”

“Yeah, getting in the way.  How’s this Eren guy so reck—"

“AAAAHHHHH!!!”

Gosh, dang it!  Jean’s hairs stood on end hearing this guy scream at the top of his lungs running sword swinging at the Deathstalker.  What the heck was he doing?  Well, fine, whatever.  If he had to work with them, he had to work with them.

He got into position again.  This thing had better die soon.  The guy who was apparently Eren’s partner (and friend, considering yesterday, as baffling as that was) came into position next to him.  Marco came forward on the scorpion’s right; Eren to the left…and center.  He screamed again and went straight for the thing’s mouth.

“What does he keep yelling like that!?” Jean growled as his line of sight was once again blocked by angry Eren.

“It’s his semblance.”

“What?” Jean’s head swiveled to hear the blond kid—oh dang it, he needed to learn people’s names already.

“Well, it’s his emotions, actually.  His aura is temporarily strengthened by strong emotion, letting him get stronger and deflect attacks.  Any emotion works, but he can make it happen more easily by yelling to get angry.  That’s why his eyes glow red when he does it.  It’s just his semblance.”

Jean shook his head.  Semblances can be such stupid oxymorons sometimes.  “So he does the thing that’ll attract Grimm _to_ him?”

“It works in battle,” he replied with a shrug.

Yeah, well, he guessed.  At least it kind of explained why such a scrawny guy like him could wield such a ridiculously heavy sword.  It wasn’t like…

“I have an idea.”

Well, this was new.  Jean darted his eyes back at the guy.  “Like what?”

“If…you want to, anyways.  It might not work.”

“Oh, spit it out, what is it?”

“Well…the plate above its head.  I wonder if we can crack it.”

“Pfft, with what?”

“That.”  He pointed to the stinger, that large, heavy object dangling temptingly over his back.  Oh.  Well, yeah, that actually made sense…

Well, it was better than nothing.  “We’ll draw his fire!” he yelled in return and ran for Marco.

Meanwhile, the blond ran for his partner.  “Eren!” 

In seconds, they were moving.  Jean and Marco attacked it up front.  In the corner of his eyes, he saw something like a rock boulder show up on the other two’s side (the blond kid’s semblance?), and Eren leapt off of it and onto the Deathstalker’s back.  It noticed.  It started flailing.  And then running. 

“Eren!” Jean was the one screaming his name this time.  “Get the stinger!”

In the moment, he nodded to Marco, and somehow, he understood.  They went for the legs.  Front side, left and right, charging in, and knocking them down.  At this point, Marco flashed with what seemed a shimmer of light, his aura splitting into two forms and slashing two legs at once--his semblance.  The Deathstalker stumbled, his formless scorpion legs bleeding black.  But he still had three good others.

He ran wildly forward, crashing out of the pit and into a few trees.  They ran after him.  The blond used his firepower as a boost to get up front and went for the claws, but with one swipe got knocked back and went skidding across the ground.

“Armin!” Eren yelled.  Perfect.  He finally had a name.  They might die, but at least everyone had freakin’ _names_.

“I got him!” Marco ran back.

“Eren, focus!” Jean supplemented while trying and failing to slow the Deathstalker down.  He needed to…right, dang it, _he_ needed to focus.  He stopped and crouched, using his sight for what it was there for.  He shot at a damaged joint, and it hit.  The leg flew off.

Eren seemed to actually take the moment.  He eyed the tail trying to flail and knock him off.  And then, for an instance, it raised. 

“Die, Grimm!”

Eren sliced through the tail like it was nothing.  From behind, Jean could see that stinger fall and land on the Deathstalker’s back…broadside.  The armor cracked.  But it didn’t pierce.  It bounced off and Jean had to veer wildly to the side as it went flying backwards and smacked into a tree.

Desperately, Eren dug his sword into the cracked armor and the thing screeched.  However, it wasn’t enough.  It kept moving.

“Ahead of you, Eren!” Jean yelled.  “The soft spot!”

“AAHHHH!” Eren responded by yelling, hands reaching forward to climb further on the scorpion’s back.  Dang, Jean needed to stop it.

He rushed forward to get to the scorpion’s front, a lovely idea also known as Armin’s fatal move (not fatal, he’s sure they’re fine).  Well, it would sure help to have a semblance that was actually useful right now, wouldn’t it?  All he had now was Valkyrie.  He ran ahead and emerged in the scorpion’s front.  It slowed, screeching at him.  He wasted no time in aiming, firing once, twice, three times.

It actually went down.  Two more legs snapped, and with a thundering thud, he hit the ground.  It roared.  It tried to hit Eren with its stinger-less tail.  And those claws went straight for Jean, who was once again, way too close.

He was about to make a run for it.  However, he hardly had the time to move.  With a cool, final, resounding thud, the claws just dropped.  And the beast fell with it.  

 

* * *

 

_Earlier…_

“Mikasa?  Mikasa, wait!”

Sasha dashed forward and ran in front of her stone-faced companion, eyes widened in surprise and hands held out in placating ‘stop’ motion, though her bow Tellspie was still in one of them. 

Mikasa, in turn, just stopped and turned slowly, only half her body angled towards her new partner’s way as she settled into standing in a bored stare.  Sasha could not tell if she was looking at her or through her, and this coupled with the fact that Mikasa still said nothing, Sasha could already feel the sweat form on her face.  Mikasa looked…cold, maybe angry?  Was this okay?  Was there a problem?  Sasha was, for a rare second, speechless.  This meeting wasn’t… _exactly_ what she had in mind.

“We’re…we’re partners now, remember?” Sasha panted her supplication, arms still held out.  Why was Mikasa just walking away like this?  Maybe she just didn’t realize…?

“We don’t have to be.”

Subconsciously, Sasha flinched.  Instantly, she was aware of Mikasa’s stony silver eyes, and her calm, dangerous resting stance that seemed simultaneously bored and yet capable of meeting her sword to a throat in the manner of seconds.  Her big red scarf obscured half her face, leaving her mouth virtually invisible and thus only open to the imagination. 

Sasha did the only thing she could do; she laughed awkwardly.  After all, maybe she was just joking?  It didn’t matter what she looked like.  Mikasa couldn’t be _that_ upset with her, could she? “Heheh, they wouldn’t like that, though, would they?”

Mikasa said nothing but a sigh before she resumed walking, brushing past Sasha where she stood.

The archer, persistent, followed after her, walking close behind.  She wished Mikasa would say something, already!  What did she want?  Did she just _not_ want to be partners with her?  Was that it?  But those were the rules!

Sasha thought for a moment.  “Hey, Mikasa, you do realize they have cameras on us, right?  Like that one, right there!” She motioned to a lens peering down on them from up high in a tree.

Mikasa still said nothing.  Then she jumped.  Sasha’s eyes went wide as right there, no kidding, she just jumped up, sprung right off a branch, and sailed right up to the offending piece of spying equipment, slashing it with her sword and landing back on the ground with nimble lightness as its skewered form fell.

Wow.  Sasha had to admit; that was impressive.  She stared dumbfounded at the camera lying in broken pieces on the ground, then glanced back at the tree, then back at the camera again.  She laughed nervously, and added, somewhat under breath, “I hope they don’t make us pay for that.”

They kept walking.  Sasha started to find herself hoping that the other two members of her team were a little more…errhm… _friendly_ , but slowly, she became more open to the idea.  Mikasa couldn’t be such a bad partner.  She was strong, anyways.  Definitely serious.  Honestly, despite being just as old as she was, Mikasa somehow looked like a hunter already, but an old one, like the hunters of long ago.  The ones, that is, that Sasha’s father used to tell her about in stories, who served only as silent protectors of the mountains and fought hordes of Grimm singlehandedly, but lived alone and spoke to no one.  They were simple warriors, too.  Sasha couldn’t help but notice how Mikasa was in now exactly what she wore last night (which was what she _slept_ in, mind you).  She had her simple twin swords, beige long sleeves, black featureless belt: the only ornament was her huge dark red scarf.  Sasha wondered if she wore that _all_ the time.  She also wondered if she carried around supplies at all in her rather clean-looking outfit, but then again, most people didn’t.  Sasha, on the other hand, could hardly see herself going out as a huntress without her quiver full of trick arrows or her knapsack full of food.  However, she was a range fighter, so it worked.  It’s not like it weighed her down too much, though; she would still consider herself pretty fast.  She had experience for that.

“So…Mikasa, what made you want to be a huntress?”

Silence.  Okay, okay, that was fine.  Too personal, she got it.  At least they got to talk a little bit last night; they’ll learn more about each other sooner or later.

“I decided to be one a couple of years before Baron,” Sasha answered instead.  She wasn’t just going to walk in silence if she didn’t have to.  “I had already thought it was a cool as a kid, but I had this incident where my aura unlocked on a hunting trip, and so I thought ‘hey, maybe I could do it!’  Well, that, and I really wanted to help people back home,” she responded lightly, maybe a little too lightly.  It was true, though.  She really did want to help.  And Vacuo…well, Vacuo needed it.

“Has your aura been unlocked for a long time?” Sasha ventured to ask.

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s cool.”  It’s not like she doubted that, really.  “It’s pretty rare for people to get their auras unlocked before training, although it usually happens in the first week, I hear.  How did yours—?”

“Wait.”

In less than a second, Mikasa literally stopped in her tracks.  Sasha, bewildered, stopped too, her eyes off of her partner’s back in a heartbeat and on the forest instead.  Her eyes and ears went alive, but surprisingly, she heard nothing.  What was it?  Was it a Grimm?  Was this Mikasa’s semblance, to see or hear further than she could?  Because surely, Sasha knew she should be able to…

“This way.”

Mikasa at once turned a clean one hundred and twenty degrees and started walking again, though setting off at a brisker pace this time.  Sasha was sure she even heard her let out a breath, like a composed sigh of relief.  She followed her.  However, she had not a clue where she was going.

“Whoa, was is it?”

“I can see them now,” Mikasa followed in ready reply.  “I think it’s this way.”

Mikasa, to be sure, seemed mysterious before.  However, this was a brand new level.  Sasha was just plain out confused.   “Wait…you saw who?  Where?”

“Eren and Armin.  They’re together.  We’re meeting them.  Now.”

“Wait…huh?” Sasha fumbled through her words.  Who the potato was…oh!  Now she remembered!  That’s right!  “Eren and Armin…those were the guys with you earlier, right?  Yeah, that’s right!  You were friends at Signal!”

“Yes.  And before that, actually,” Mikasa added.

“And…you know where they are?”

“I saw them, yes.”

So wait…she could see?  So _that_ must be her semblance!  This was interesting!  “Whoa, you could see them?  From somewhere else?  What are you, like, psychic?”

“No,” Mikasa let out a deep breath as she kept walking.  “I can see through their eyes.  It’s my semblance.  With concentration, I can see what they see and hear what they hear.”

“Ha, that’s different!” Sasha commented with the air of one impressed, which was true.  “So…can you do that with everybody?”

“No,” Mikasa shook her head.  “Only a few.  People I…” she paused for a moment, as if thinking about how to say it.  “…am close to.”

“I see.  And Eren and Armin are two of them, huh?” Sasha nodded in seeming understanding.

“Yes.”

Sasha nodded, satisfied at the answer.  They were old friends, huh?  She wondered how long.  She supposed, however, that she would get to know them soon enough, but for now, she was glad she knew.  Already it was like a weight lifted.  She understood now!  As they continued onwards, Sasha laughed again, this time less nervous and more genuinely hearty.  “Ha, I get it now!  You want to join up with them so we can be a team.  That’s cool.  I’m fine with that,” she agreed good-naturedly, although they both knew that she really had no say in this matter.  She was along for the ride now.  “So, Eren…wasn’t that the guy in the lunchroom yesterday…?”

“Don’t.”

Sasha obeyed the cue and stopped talking after that, and they were off.  Mikasa kept changing directions, probably unsure of her mental cues given the understandable fact that the forest was a strange and unknown place to all of them, but it was fine.  Sasha tried to put two and two together.  It made sense.  Mikasa wanted to be a team with her friends.  They were probably the ones she was looking for when Sasha ran into her instead.  But it still worked, right?  If those guys were partners, they could still meet up together, and everything would work out like Mikasa wanted it to.  At least, that’s what she assumed.  Anyhow, Sasha wanted her to be happy, so she would help.  She didn’t know that many people from her last school anyways, and she wasn’t expecting to have a choice in the matter.

Mikasa stopped again.  This time, Sasha stopped and looked at her expectantly, although by instinct, her muscles still tensed and her ears opened.  When Mikasa didn’t say anything, she got nervous.  She looked around, eyes peeled for any sign…and then, she felt it.  Her eyes lifted to some point in the distance…her hands reached back…

_SCREEEEEE!_

Grimm!  Sasha knew that sound; she knew it anywhere.  It had the unquestionable mark of fury and pain, like an animal of the most dangerous…

“Let’s go!”  Mikasa started running.  Sasha was running too, her hands finding an arrow and notching it in her bow in the process

_SCREEEEEE!_

She heard it getting closer.  Then, from the top of a hill, she saw it.  It was pelting.  Some guy was running beside it.  Another guy was hanging by a sword off of his back

“Deathstalker!”

“They’re down there.”  Mikasa’s voice was still calm but unmistakably tense.

She looked about to run down there.  Sasha’s eyes darted to hers.  “You can’t just run!  Listen to me; they’re dangerous like this!  He’s desperate!  Deathstalkers don’t just run like that!”

“I can kill him,” Mikasa’s eyes, set with determination, matched hers.  They were unwavering.  And so, Sasha understood; there really was no other way.  She had to match her. 

“You’re better if you get on his back.  With your swords, you can pierce him.  Just…we have to let him come to us.”

“How?” Mikasa answered in simple question, her swords already out and ready.

Sasha smiled.  “I know how much you love trees.”  With a mischievous grin, she cast the arrow she was holding to the side and got out another one—a grappling one.  Instead of a point, it had a hook on its end and a retractable line stringing from its end.  She ran down to the scorpion’s path.  And then, eyes on an oak’s crown, she fired, and then, she took Mikasa’s hand.

The line carried them up just before the ground resumed its shaking like thunder.  Mikasa stepped forward on the branch, her scarf waving in the wind, with a look like a legend.  She waited a few moments.  And then, she jumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes, the young fighters will rise. They're going to be such great friends, right?
> 
> So, you may or may not have noticed but I realized I have yet to explain: I made all of their weapon names a reference to something. I didn't intend to figure that through at first, but the opportunity presented itself, so yeah. It's a homage to the original RWBY series, with everyone relating to some classic character or thing by name, design, or story. For this, I ended up making the weapon names a reference to either classic literature, folklore/legend, or history--sometimes directly, sometimes with a little wordplay. Sometimes it's a direct connection to their story here; sometimes it's a vague reference to their role or character. So yeah. I won't explain them all now, because that's no fun, but I'll explain it eventually. Kudos to anyone who can guess! Hint hint, most of my opening quotes will be related to them.
> 
> And, semblances! We got to introduce a few of those. Eren's, obviously, is inspired by Yang's from the show. His was one of the first I came up with for that reason; he's got that very emotion-driven, anger-happy, punch-now-ask-later kind of style similarly...just angrier. The mechanics are different (at least, honestly, I'm not sure how it works with Yang, so...): he gets stronger with any kind of emotion. Anger is just a favorite (it wouldn't be Eren if he wasn't screaming, right?). He's not, however, "invincible", per say. He can still take a hit, but since his aura is strengthened, he just heals faster. 
> 
> Also, Mikasa. Hers is probably the most "different" of all the semblances, because, you know, she's a *different* kind of a person (*wink wink*). She impresses on people. You'll see more later, from her perspective, but basically, she can briefly enter the mental space of people that she is emotionally close to. Namely, it happens through the senses: see what they see and hear what they hear. And, what was not mentioned in the story, she feels their pain. Not sustained, but it will happen in the moment of shock. I decided this semblance for her mainly for the connection she has with Eren and Armin, and potentially others. As aloof as she may be, she does have this capability for strong empathy and fierce protectiveness. I kind of just heightened the empathy part. It'll be important later.
> 
> And, lastly, Marco. I let his semblance show up very briefly, but yes, he can split himself into two, Essentially, his physical body for a short moment of time dissolves in two solid energy forms that he controls at the same time with the same consciousness. So, he splits in half. No, I'm not sorry.


End file.
